Chapter Text
As Carol climbed out of her car, she wondered vaguely how she ended up at this event. Well, she knew how she got here. Five separate people had told her about it. The issue was that two of them had invited her before she’d even had the chance to pull out. It was some sort of ‘sexy sapphic oil wrestling not-quite-an-orgy thing’, as a bartender named Destiny had phrased it. Carol had told Destiny she’d love to come, then asked if she had any cigarettes.
It had gone approximately the same way with the goth girl she’d met at Home Depot. Carol couldn’t remember her name. She tended to avoid these sorts of lesbian gatherings for that specific reason. She could readily admit she was a bit of a player, and she rightfully feared the consequences of attending an event where more than one girl could team up to corner and berate her. Actually, upon imagining it, Carol didn’t hate that scenario. She would be remiss to avoid an opportunity to self-flagellate.
In any case, Carol had only agreed to attend Dyke Fight Nite after her friend Andrea had insisted she needed an outlet for her self-hatred that didn’t involve casual sex. Whatever. What did Andrea know? Carol showed up anyway.
The event was being held in someone’s backyard, and Carol could tell by the bumping bass that the party was in full swing by the time she arrived. She dragged her feet around to the side yard, trying to relax her shoulders. She wasn’t nervous. That would be silly.
She swung the gate open and took in the sight before her. Aside from a few stragglers, the party seemed to be centered around one singularity of activity. It gave the illusion of the yard being much larger than it was. An audience of cheering girls surrounded a makeshift arena on a tarp, barely visible amidst a sea of combat boots and bare feet. The lawn was well-maintained, but the crowd was pounding a bare patch of mud and spilled beer into the earth around them. String lights stretched between the sparse trees, casting an amber glow over the whole party. Cheers erupted from the crowd, drowning out the quiet of suburban night. A stocky butch stood taller than the rest, atop a platform with a mic in her hand. She was providing a play-by-play of the wrestling match, a huge grin on her face as she held the attention of the crowd in a tight grip. It conjured to Carol’s mind the image of an orchestra conductor.
“Oh, shit, down she goes! Victoria takes the lead with a body slam, and- oh! Maybe lesbian porn was right after all? Has anyone tried that position?” the butch asked. Mixed laughter and jeering answered her. She took it all in with exceptional grace. There was an easy sort of rapport between her and the audience, and it made Carol weirdly jealous. Carol eyed the ordeal from afar, feet suddenly too heavy to move.
She tried redirecting her attention to the rest of the backyard. Past the wrestling was a circle of lawn chairs around a fire pit, where a handful of people slouched and smoked. That explained the weed smell wafting in Carol’s direction. In another corner, a beat-up folding table bowed under the weight of a jug full of some sort of jungle juice. A pair of coolers sat underneath it. That made Carol perk up, and she beelined to the drinks, sidestepping a couple making out to pop open a cooler and dig through the beer options. She landed on one and started to stand up when she heard someone clear their throat behind her.
Carol panicked, already flipping through the Rolodex of people it could possibly be. There was Sarah, the girl Carol had met at a coffee shop three weeks ago. Evelyn, a blind date from some time last month. Or maybe Mallory, whom she had hooked up with in a bar bathroom on a Tuesday. That one seemed unlikely, as they were both pretty embarrassed to have been drinking heavily two days into the work week.
Carol tried to muster an unassuming smile before turning around, infinitely relieved to find it was a femme she didn’t know.
“Carol, right?” the woman asked. She was tall, with a blunt black bob and winged eyeliner. She was looking at Carol like she wanted to eat her, though Carol couldn’t tell if it was in a hot way or a scary way.
“Who’s asking?” Carol replied. She wasn’t particularly interested in fucking anyone tonight, and she definitely wasn’t interested in getting slapped across the face. The girl narrowed her eyes.
“Amy. You never called her back.”
Damn it. Carol searched the recesses of her mind, trying to remember an Amy. She came up blank. “Oh. Um-“
“You know, Amy has been through a lot, okay? She deserves someone who really cares about her, and I think it’s pretty fucked up to take advantage of a girl like that.”
Carol gulped, glancing around desperately for an escape route. “I would love to talk to Amy about this, if she’s around. I’m sure there was just some sort of misunderstanding. Maybe a wrong number?” she stammered.
“No way. You’re dealing with me now,” the girl insisted, taking a step closer. Carol was pinned between her sharp gaze and the table behind her, and she tried leaning casually against the surface to disguise how far she had to crane her neck to meet the girl’s eyes.
Suddenly, from halfway across the yard, a voice called out. “Carol!”
Carol whipped her head to the side, seeing someone waving at her. She couldn’t tell in the dark who it was, but it didn’t matter. In that moment, it must’ve been Jesus. She looked back at the angry woman in front of her, a sheepish grin crawling onto her face.
“Sorry. Let’s continue this later,” she managed. She didn’t give her a chance to say anything else before she darted over to her savior.
As she approached and the woman came into view, her relief faded just a little. Helen Umstead looked back at her, arms crossed, looking smug as ever.
“Hi, Helen,” Carol grumbled.
Helen cocked an eyebrow. “No ‘thank you?’”
“Apologies. Thank you so much for saving me, sweet Helen. How can I ever repay you?” Carol replied, turning on the charm.
Helen rolled her eyes. She was someone that Carol considered a friend, and someone who probably considered Carol a pest that she let hang out with her sometimes. Carol didn’t have a whole lot of friends, so she wasn’t very choosy.
She had met Helen around a year ago at a rock show where they had ended up at barricade. They were both there solo, and had subsequently bonded over their shared dykiness, without the expectation of ever meeting again. When they did happen to run into each other again at a bookstore, and then a bar, and then three more bars, Carol thought it was fate. Helen thought it was annoying as hell, and Carol took great pleasure in bugging her every time their paths crossed.
Carol had once asked Helen why she didn’t want to fuck her at least once, just to try it, and Helen had looked at her like she had grown a second head. Helen had made it very clear that she would never, ever have sex with Carol, and was in fact repulsed by the thought. Carol accepted that, but she never stopped flirting with her. She liked how much it pissed Helen off.
“What are you doing here? I never see you at these things,” Helen asked, ignoring Carol’s half-assed advances.
Carol shrugged and shoved her hands in the pockets of her cargo shorts. “Thought it would be a good opportunity to let off some steam.”
“So it has nothing to do with all the topless lesbians rolling around in oil?”
Carol grinned, wide and toothy, “Just a bonus. Are you gonna join ‘em?”
Helen scoffed. “Down, boy.”
Carol raised her hands in surrender. The urge to be incredibly annoying was impossible to ignore, but she knew not to cross any real lines. “I’m not trying anything. Pinky swear.”
“I might be convinced. Not by you, of course. But you can watch.” Carol was surprised by that last part. It wasn’t quite a flirt, but it was close. Her shock must’ve been apparent, because Helen pursed her lips. “Sorry. I’ve had a couple drinks,” she mumbled. She looked embarrassed, and Carol’s stomach did a little flip.
“Wanna grab another?” Carol asked in a rare show of mercy.
Helen peered over her shoulder. “Is your friend still waiting for you over there?”
“Eh, doesn’t matter. I’m invincible.”
Helen stared at her for a moment, expression unreadable. “Jesus,” she muttered under her breath. Carol chugged the rest of her first beer and followed dutifully behind as Helen turned and stalked off. She weaved her way to the drinks, then circled back to the Adirondacks surrounding the fire, only looking back at Carol once she was comfortably seated with a fresh solo cup. She nodded towards the chair next to her and Carol sat immediately.
Helen sipped her drink and grimaced. Carol watched the way her throat bobbed when she swallowed. She found herself mirroring Helen every time she lifted the plastic to her lips, letting the buzz settle in her limbs. “You’d think these would start tasting better at some point,” Helen complained.
It made Carol wonder vaguely how long Helen had been here, how many drinks she’d had already. She wondered how often Helen came to these sorts of things. She wondered how many of the attendees Helen knew, and if she had friends that Carol hooked up with. She wondered how much Helen actually knew about her. Carol wanted to know her, too.
She took an indulgent moment to let her eyes wander over Helen’s form, taking in her loose t-shirt and the smallest pair of gym shorts Carol had ever seen. They looked painted on. Carol swallowed heavily. Her gaze traced down long legs, and when she looked up she found Helen doing the exact same thing. She grinned. She knew she looked good, in a tight wifebeater with her arms and abs on display, but it was interesting to see Helen visibly appreciate it. Helen finally looked back to her face and frowned when she saw that Carol had caught her.
“Get over yourself,” she mumbled, but there was no bite in it. Usually Helen shut down all of Carol’s jabs with ease, seemingly immune to her boyish charm. Tonight, though, her eyes remained glued to Carol’s body, too distracted to continue her performance.
“This is a fascinating development, Helen. I had no idea you had so little restraint,” she remarked, anxious to pull some truth out of the woman while her guard was down.
Helen groaned. “Oh, come on. I’m not blind, I just have self-respect.” Victory.
“Ouch!”
“Let me indulge, asshole. I’m just looking.”
But Carol was a dog with a bone. “Wrestle me,” she said.
She tried to cover the flush on her cheeks by taking another sip. “Not a chance.”
Carol couldn’t let it slide. “Look at you. You’re helpless to my charms.”
“Please, what charms? You’ve got sex appeal, sure, but no game.”
Carol leaned forward, elbows landing on her spread knees. Helen’s heavily lidded eyes followed the movement with feigned disinterest. The pink spread down to her neck
“You wound me.” Carol didn’t feel wounded, though. All her resolve not to go home with someone tonight had gone out the window as soon as she realized Helen had been playing her. Carol was amazed it took her this long to figure her out. Helen was barely tipsy and folding like a cheap suit.
Helen watched all these thoughts play out on Carol’s face, as if Carol had said them all out loud. “You’re so annoying.”
“You like it.” And now she knew it was true. Helen didn’t keep her around out of pity, she liked Carol.
What a horribly embarrassing thing to admit.
“I’m going to watch the next match. Don’t follow me.” With that, Helen stood and marched off towards the crowd. Carol was content to watch as she walked away. Those shorts were truly obscene.
For a little while, Carol sat around and absorbed the atmosphere in peaceful silence. At some point she grabbed another drink. She observed the thrumming body of cheering lesbians gathered in the yard. The butch on the platform yelled out plays and jokes, and Carol felt good. If she’d wound up here a few years ago, the setting would have terrified her, the gratuitous displays of female sexuality and raucous energy. But along the way, the guilt in Carol’s gut had simmered down to a low, constant ache. When she hooked up with strangers it went away for a bit. When she got high with her idiot roommate she could ignore it. And right now the warmth of community was drowning it out. Maybe these sorts of parties weren’t all bad.
Carol wished she could see Helen in the crowd. The thought popped into her head unbidden and it kind of pissed her off. She turned to stare into the fire, letting the heat wash over her. She would have to play the long game with this one—too much at once and Helen would never speak to her again. There was something about her that drew Carol like a moth to a flame, and she would be an idiot to let that happen because she couldn’t keep it in her pants for one night. No, she would keep seeing Helen at bars and acting like a fool to keep her entertained, until one day Helen would show her mercy and make out with her for approximately three minutes. Yes. A perfect plan.
Eventually Carol finished her beer. She turned towards the drink table, but saw the tall girl from earlier hovering and opted to stay out of her way without Helen to come to her rescue. A short redhead stumbled past Carol’s seat to go puke next to a tree, and Carol took it as her cue to join the festivities. She got up and fell easily into the throng of people surrounding the wrestling mat, immediately enveloped in the combined heat of bodies all around her. Carol wiggled toward the front, ready to see what the fuss was about. A couple girls gave her dirty looks for pushing, but Carol was used to that.
On the mat were two girls Carol didn’t recognize, and she had the wherewithal to feel grateful for that fact. They were locked in a tangle of limbs, and all around them were friends cheering them on. One of the girls was on her back with the other draped across her sideways, and she squirmed in the oil while the girl on top struggled to hold her down. “Come on, Nicole, don’t give up that easy!” called the announcer. The host, maybe? Carol didn’t know.
“I’m trying!” squealed the one on her back, before digging her fingers into the other girl’s ribs. The girl yelped, recoiling. Nicole took the opening and dove at her, but she dodged out of the way.
The match seemed fun and not incredibly serious, and Carol pondered who she could convince to fight her. Her eyes drifted up from the fight and happened to land on Helen, directly across from her in the ring. It was destiny, probably. Helen was already looking at her, but as soon as they made eye contact she looked back down, cheering one of the girls on. Carol couldn’t tell which. She refocused on the wrestling, which had devolved to the pair circling one another, the fast one darting out of reach while Nicole struggled to grab her.
“Seems like Ava’s a little too quick for you! Trust me, I would know.” A couple of wolf whistles came from the crowd.
Ava whipped around to glare at the announcer and was immediately tackled by Nicole, arms wrapped around her knees. Ava fell bodily to the mat, scrabbling for purchase on the oily tarp. But Nicole held on tight, and the announcer shouted, “1, 2, 3! Nicole takes it!” Ava smacked her fist on the ground in frustration.
The girls slowly rose from the ground, Ava reluctantly taking Nicole’s offered hand. She looked at the announcer, “Damn it, Jo! That was your fault.”
“Ooh, talk dirty to me!” The announcer, Jo, replied.
Carol met Helen’s eyes again and waggled her eyebrows. Helen huffed, but didn’t look away this time. Carol was pleased. “Alright ladies, who wants to get in on the girl-on-girl action?” Jo called out. Carol winked at Helen, not really expecting anything. Helen pursed her lips, a pained look on her face. She glanced around as if waiting for someone to move first, then rolled her eyes and stepped out of the circle. Carol’s eyebrows shot up, but she snapped into action and stepped forward too. Everyone seemed to recognize the both of them. Fantastic. “Oh, this should be good,” Jo commented. Even more fantastic.
Helen surveyed the crowd, then turned her attention directly to Carol. There was the briefest second where Carol felt like she had the upperhand, knowing Helen’s super secret crush. But then Helen reached down and pulled her t-shirt off to reveal an unfairly cute bra. Carol froze in place. It was delicate, dark green, and Carol was sure it provided no structural support with the amount of skin it showed. Her eyes traveled hungrily over Helen’s stomach, her legs, her collarbones, her hips, taking in the sight and cataloging it in her mind. Just in case.
Helen preened under Carol’s eyes. Carol was vaguely aware of the crowd whooping in appreciation when Helen looked around, inviting the attention with a smug smile. Carol felt a slight pang of jealousy at the knowledge that this moment was not just for the two of them, then guilt for being jealous over someone who didn’t even really like her.
“Ladies, settle down,” Jo chided. “Let’s meet your competitors!” She gestured to Helen. “In the blue corner, we’ve got a sweet little futch wearing the cutest booty shorts I personally have ever seen, it’s Helen! Make some noise for those tight ass shorts!” The crowd made some noise. Helen spun around, showing off the shorts from every angle. Carol had to agree with the masses on this one. Her fingers twitched at her sides. “And in the red corner, we’ve got our resident baby butch, she’s fucked at least three of my close friends, it’s Carol! Helen, I implore you to beat her ass.” Carol thought that was a little unfair. She called Helen a sweet little futch.
Helen smiled. “Not a problem, Jo!” she replied cheerily, and Carol frowned. Suddenly it was critical for her to win. She pulled her converse off while Helen stepped out of her boots.
“Are we ready, girls? Get wet, get wild, go!” As Jo shouted go, two women with huge buckets splashed Helen and Carol with baby oil. Carol yelped, having forgotten that part of it. Helen took her by surprise, lunging to grab her by the waist. Somehow, Carol had not prepared herself for the feeling of Helen’s hands on her body, but she had to recover quickly.
Helen tried to throw Carol down onto the mat, but despite her best efforts Carol was in fact stronger than her. Carol held on, pushing back against the brunette until her feet slipped in the oil and Helen fell flat on her back, pulling Carol down with her. Carol barely had time to appreciate the visual of Helen lying underneath her before Helen was squirming and scratching at Carol’s sides, brow furrowed and teeth bared. Carol suppressed a grin. She looked pretty cute.
“Ouch! Helen’s first to fall, Carol quickly gaining ground. Fight back, Helen!” Jo yelled, bringing Carol back to reality. She tried to hold Helen’s shoulders down to the mat, but Helen jerked her knee into Carol’s ribs and Carol lost her grip, sliding back on the mat. “Atta girl!” Jo yelled. Carol wondered if there should be a rule against the referee having a bias. She clambered to her feet, and Helen did the same. They circled each other.
“You’re fast, Hel,” Carol noted.
“You’re really strong,” Helen huffed. She didn’t mean it as a compliment, but Carol took it as one.
“Yeah? Wanna come feel my guns?” she offered. Helen blanched.
“Quit flirting! Kill each other!” Jo insisted.
Helen ran and threw herself at Carol again, jumping to try and topple her. Miraculously, Carol caught her and remained upright, holding her up with hands under her thighs. Helen seemed shocked, and to be honest Carol was too.
“Damn. You think she could carry me like that?” Jo pondered. Carol winked, just for Helen, and there was a brief second where Helen looked uncharacteristically flustered. Carol then dropped down onto the mat, pinning Helen’s body down and knocking the wind out of both of them. Helen lay on her back, wheezing with her hands pushing against Carol’s shoulders, Carol knelt between her legs. Admittedly, Helen’s next move was made possible because Carol got distracted by the sheen of oil on her chest, heaving with exertion as she caught her breath. Helen slid out from under her.
Carol didn’t have time to react before Helen had collided with her side. Now Carol was on her back, with Helen straddling her torso and pressing her upper arms into the tarp.
“Eyes up here, Carol,” Helen chided, breathing hard. Carol huffed out a laugh and flexed. She got exactly the reaction she wanted. Helen’s smile faded and her pupils expanded. She squeezed back against Carol’s tensed muscles, fingers wrapped around her biceps. Her eyes came back up to meet Carol’s, and she didn’t look away as her thighs clenched ever so slightly around Carol’s waist. Carol almost moaned out loud, but she had to focus. She could taste victory.
In a flash of genius, she thrusted her hips up hard, knocking Helen off balance and making her topple to the ground next to her.
Jo practically gasped. “Jesus Christ. Helen, be strong. For lesbians everywhere.”
Helen fell with a thump, and Carol followed her quickly. They’d swapped places again, Carol astride Helen while she valiantly flailed her hands in Carol’s face. She tried to shove Carol backward, though her lower half was trapped by Carol’s strong, solid body.
Carol let her struggle for a few moments, though she already knew it was over. In a final act of showmanship, Carol snatched Helen’s arms out of the air, gathered her wrists into one hand, and slammed them above her head. Helen gasped.
Several things happened in the next three seconds.
First, there was beat where neither of them moved, acutely aware of what they were doing and how incredibly public it was. Carol could feel Helen’s heartbeat in her wrists, could feel her own deep in her stomach. Helen’s eyes were wide and her pupils were dark. Something shifted between them. This was foreplay.
Next, they both realized that Carol had risen up onto her knees in the process. Helen’s eyes narrowed, and Carol knew she was fucked. Helen did not accept defeat, especially not when her competitor was as smug as Carol.
Time moved in slow motion as Helen arched up off the mat with a smirk. She bit her lip as her hips met Carol’s and ground her body hard into Carol’s center. If Carol hadn’t noticed before how wet the match had gotten her, she certainly did now. The sensation knocked all the fight out of Carol, and Helen knew it.
“Does anyone have a camera? I think they’re making a baby.”
The background noise faded to a ringing in Carol’s ears as Helen flipped them again, pinning Carol with finality. Carol’s legs felt like jelly. Helen straddled one of Carol’s thighs, her own knee pressed flush against Carol. Their fingers were interlaced, Helen’s hands pressing Carol’s into the mat on either side of her head. Carol didn’t even try to struggle, breathing hard and staring into Helen’s eyes. She saw her own arousal reflected in them.
“1, 2, 3! Helen uses her feminine wiles to win!” Jo called. Carol let her head fall to the ground in defeat, panting heavily. Helen leaned back against the perch of Carol’s knee. The sound of whooping and catcalls faded back into existence. Someone threw Helen’s shirt on top of them. “Alright, get off the mat and go finger each other. Jesus.”
Helen rolled off of Carol and offered her a hand up. Carol hesitated. Despite how much contact they had made in the past two and half minutes, Carol was somehow still surprised that Helen would offer her anything at all. Helen’s lips quirked into a smile. Carol got over herself and took her hand. They didn’t need to exchange a single word as they grabbed their shoes and cut through the crowd, bodies slick with baby oil and sweat, still breathing hard, still holding hands.
The last thing they heard as they raced out of the yard was Jo’s voice booming through the microphone. “My sincere condolences to anyone who has had sex with either of those women.”